


stethoscope stereo

by uisgebeatha



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Sex, Choking, Cock and Ball Torture, Dom/sub, High Heels, Medical Roleplay, Nurse Costume, Omorashi, Other, Piss kink, Prostitute Grant, Stethoscope, little bit of dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29353797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uisgebeatha/pseuds/uisgebeatha
Summary: “Are you sexually active?”“What?”“I said,” The hands push harder, likely leaving faint marks as they go. “Are you sexually active? Have you never had a physical before, boy?”
Relationships: Frank Iero/Grant Morrison
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	stethoscope stereo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starstruck0rMetal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starstruck0rMetal/gifts).



> here u go legend i hope it's not too bad!! i wish the ending was a wee bit better but we move
> 
> also not proofread but when do i proofread things

Birthdays are always a bit shit when you have to spend them alone, Frank thinks, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. He’d been out with his friends last night, and Gerard had called him this morning, but the loneliness is still eating away at him and it’s at times like this when Frank really wishes he wasn’t single. 

Gerard was supposed to come over and spend the evening making cupcakes and handing out Halloween candy but he’d called this morning and apologised profusely, saying that he was having to stay late at work and explained that Frank’s gift would be delivered at around 8PM.

Truthfully, the whole day has already been one big sigh, and Frank is seriously considering going to bed with a cup of tea and his kindle - what a way to celebrate his 22nd birthday, right? But it’s almost 8PM and Frank really doesn’t want to miss Gerard’s present that he’s been trying to guess for weeks, which Gerard’s teasing hints haven’t helped with at all. 

If anything, Gerard’s hints have been making him more confused (and a little more excited too). He’d said to make sure to wear something nice, which only served to confuse Frank further when Gerard cancelled but _insisted_ that Frank still dress up for his lonely night in. He’d also told Frank to ‘not freak out’ so, naturally, Frank’s been freaking out all day. 

The brat in him decided not to dress up, but he’s really starting to rethink his decision - there had to have been a reason for Gerard to say that, and now he’s going to look like an idiot in a t-shirt so old the logo leaves the barest imprint and his least flattering pair of black sweatpants. Whatever, it’s not like anyone is really going to see him at all, or no one important at least. He’ll just open the door for the parcel and get back inside as quick as possible to go to bed. 

* * *

It’s 8.04 when the door rings and Frank purposely takes his time answering, walking as lazily as possible through the hallway in a show of annoyance at the four minute delay. The other person doesn’t seem to want to wait though, and instead of knocking this time, there’s an almost frantic knock on the glass panel of his front door. 

Frank doesn’t even bother to look through the peephole, his curiosity peaked by the blurred vision he can see through the frosted glass. As he swings the door open, the other person takes a delicate step inside almost immediately and words begin to come out of their mouth - though they don’t seem panicked at all. 

“Nurse for a Mr. Frank Iero?” Their tone is low and guttural as they look him up and down, smirking a little as Frank shivers under their gaze. 

“Uh...That’s me. I’m sorry, _who the fuck are you?_ ” And it’s a fair question; his visitor is someone dressed (if one could even call it that) in the skimpiest nurse costume Frank has ever seen, so terrible it presents terribly arousing instead of funny. They’re wearing sheer white stockings which connect on each leg to red garters, sinfully tight against pale skin, and Frank is sure that the stereotypical nurses cross on each garter will leave delicious marks on their broad thighs. 

They’re wearing a pair of red heels to match the garters, and _oh, god,_ Frank’s always been interested in feet - something he might normally be ashamed of, but the clicking of the stilettos as the stranger shifts slightly has him drooling, mouth hanging open obscenely. Images fly through his head of where he would like those heels on his body - the burning pain they could leave behind. 

The most captivating part of the costume, however, is the dress they’re wearing. Mostly, it’s a plain white bodycon dress, two red stripes running down from the chest and connecting to the garters like bows on a present, but _holy shit._

The stranger has a round, full chest, breasts spilling out of two cutouts in the dress; Frank knows he should stop staring, that he’s being exceptionally rude, but he’s addicted to the view, glancing appreciatively at the slight space between their breasts where the cord of their stethoscope hangs down from their neck. He’s never wanted something around his neck more. 

“I believe I’m your birthday present,” They say, placing down a huge briefcase that Frank hadn’t previously noticed. “And I think it’s time we get started.” 

“Started with what? I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Frank manages, confused but mostly just turned on at the situation. That’s as far as he gets, though, as the nurse moves forward and presses him into the wall. 

Their hands grip his wrists gently, lose enough that Frank could probably break free if he wanted; he doesn’t. The nurse just stares into his eyes for a second, lips almost touching. It’s like they are scanning for something, glancing down at Frank's lips briefly before speaking, their breath hitting his face in waves of heat. 

“Your friend Gerard called for me…” The nurse pauses, seeming to consider their next words. “Said you had a problem...an itch you needed to scratch. Thought I could help.” 

They’re pressed so close together and Frank’s spine stings where it hits the wall, but the nurse is still shuffling closer, speaking in low tones and letting their teeth graze Frank’s lips teasingly. 

It takes a minute for his brain to catch up with his dick, which is rapidly hardening against the nurse’s own crotch, but when he manages to clear the fog, Frank’s left with pure arousal. _Shit,_ he thinks. _Gerard bought him a fucking prostitute._

Frank’s been known to throw himself into things, often without considering the consequences first, but this doesn’t feel like something he needs to overthink. The nurse is confident, attractive, and Frank trusts that Gerard has probably warned them about some of his more...interesting desires. 

One glance down at the nurse’s lips from Frank sets the pair off, and they move forward at the same time, catching each other in a bruising kiss. It’s rough from the beginning, one harsh pair of lips bruising against searching ones, roles clearly stated already. 

It hardly seems possible, but the nurse has Frank pushed further into the wall as they kiss and they raise his arms above his head, both wrists gripped in one strong hand. In response, Frank arches his back and pushes his hips out, trying to grind against the nurse - he’s testing the waters, unsure how much the other will let him get away with, how bratty he can be. 

They indulge him, but only for a moment before they pull away, pushing his wrists harder into the wall and smirking at the breathy hiss that slips from his swollen lips. Their other hand grips onto his hip to push him back into the wall a little harder than necessary. 

Frank considers his next words very, very carefully. 

“Ma-,” His voice comes out whiny and choked, a truly embarrassing sign of excitement, and he flushes at the mocking chuckle from the nurse. Clearing his throat and ducking his head, he continues, “Ma’am? I...I don’t know what to call you. I’m so sorry.” 

Another chuckle from the nurse turns Frank’s face an alarming shade of red, heat spreading throughout his body. His face burrows further into his neck, hidden by his arm still held above him. The nurse is not pleased with this - releasing his hip, they raise their hand to his face to grip his chin and lift his head. Well, that’s what Frank expects, at least. 

He certainly doesn’t expect the hand to wrap around his throat, nudging his head straight with their knuckles. Frank gasps, fighting the urge to whimper (and mostly succeeding). Their hand doesn’t tighten, just rests there gently, no doubt feeling Frank’s pulse where it quivers in his throat. 

“Sweet thing. You may call me Nurse or Doctor, if you’d like. Granted you manage to speak, that is.” And their hand tightens around his neck, just for the briefest of moments before letting go entirely as the nurse releases him and walks away, collecting their briefcase and walking curiously into the living room.

Frank takes a moment to compose himself, pinching himself to make sure he didn’t fall asleep on the sofa and collapse into an incredibly realistic wet dream. It doesn’t work. He tips his head back against the wall and bites his lip, discreetly pulling his phone out to text a quick _“thnk u x”_ to Gerard. 

He straightens his back, closes the front door (and pretends it’s not shockingly hot that so many people could have seen that), and follows the nurse into the living room on trembling legs.

* * *

The nurse’s heels make an electrifying clicking sound on the laminate flooring, competing with the music they are playing, and Frank watches in a choked silence as the nurse unfolds the briefcase, which isn’t a briefcase at all. 

It unfolds into a table like one you’d see in a doctor’s office, and the nurse doesn’t hesitate to put a crinkling paper sheet across the bed. They raise the top section, purposely not looking at Frank, and click the wheels into place by bending over in a deliberate show of their skimpy red thong. 

Frank’s so lost in his filthy thoughts that he startles when the nurse turns abruptly, sharp heels spinning on the floor, and beckons him over. 

“Let’s get started, shall we?” 

Frank thinks it’s probably weird that he follows without question, lying down and slipping his feet into the stirrups that he hadn’t even noticed were there. It forces him to spread his legs wide, the angle of the bed giving him just the right view of his own, and the nurse’s body. 

As the nurse walks around the bed, Frank tries hard not to stare at the way their breasts sway, if not in sexual desire then in innocent fascination at the beauty of their body. The nurse clearly notices his dilemma though, as they smirk and chuckle every time they catch his eyes dropping lower. 

“Okay,” The nurse claps their hands (Frank pretends he doesn’t flinch). “Just a regular physical today, nothing to worry about.” They smile condescendingly, as though just the thought of the annual physical doesn’t make Frank’s heart race. 

“Y-yeah, okay.” 

The nurse leans over Frank, letting their chest hang above his head, forcing him to go slightly cross-eyed as he resists the urge to look away. 

They rummage for longer than necessary, moving things around in the metal tray across the table before they emerge with a thermometer. Gesturing for Frank to open up, they stare right into his eyes as they slowly push it into his mouth. 

It shouldn’t be so attractive, Frank thinks, to have a thermometer thrust into your mouth like this. He should really be laughing at the sheer ridiculousness, but the way the nurse stares into his eyes, an unspoken promise of something more has Frank trying not to squirm already. 

Every so often, they push the thermometer too far, letting it sit against the very back of Frank’s throat for just too long and watching Frank try not to squirm as his eyes start to water. When this happens, their fingers are so close to his lips that Frank has to work not to open his mouth wider and take them too. 

It goes on for a few minutes, the distracting but filthy sound of the crinkling paper sheet as the soundtrack to the scene.

Eventually, the nurse pulls the thermometer out for the last time, slowly, letting the spit strings break off and fall back onto Frank’s chin. 

They lean over again and place it on the metal table, but this time when they emerge their hands are empty and they reach for the stethoscope around their neck. 

“Just checking your lungs, boy.” They murmur, placing the earpieces in their ears. As they place the metal against his chest Frank has a moment of worry about how fast his heart is beating, sure that they will be able to hear it. 

“Hm..,” The nurse grumbles, moving the stethoscope around, and Frank knows what’s coming next before the nurse says it. 

“I can’t seem to get a good read...would you mind removing your shirt so I can hear better?” And their smile is so condescending, leaving absolutely no room for argument. 

Frank obediently removes his shirt and the nurse rewards him by placing their free hand on his hip, twisting themselves at an uncomfortable angle as they go right back to moving the stethoscope, colder now, against his chest. 

It doesn’t last much longer, but it feels like hours to Frank, whose brain is focused on the warm hand on his hip, slipping up and down gently, almost like they don’t even notice they’re doing it. 

“Sounds like your lungs are fine, but your heart rate is a little fast. If this is too much for you, tell me now; the rest of this exam could be physically...taxing.” Their hand lifts away, leaving his skin cold and tingling. 

“No! I mean no, thank you. Nurse. No, thank you, nurse.” Frank stammers, stomach dropping at the thought of stopping now, when he’s shivering and sweating in excitement. 

“Very well. Now I’m going to do an abdominal exam. For this, you will need to remove your trousers - underwear is optional.” The nurse speaks cooly, infuriatingly composed. 

They turn to face the wall, and Frank thinks it’s more humiliating to do it like this, where they can’t see. Regardless, he removes his sweatpants and throws them on the floor vaguely close to his shirt. 

Frank coughs and the nurse spins back, schooling their face into seriousness and Frank notices they don’t appear disappointed that he kept his underwear on, rather the opposite, in fact. 

“Grey? Interesting choice.” Frank doesn’t get time to consider what the nurse means before they continue talking. 

“This part of the exam might be uncomfortable if you haven’t used the bathroom recently. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, I assure you.” And with that, they climb onto the length of the bed, between Frank’s spread legs, and press down on his bladder with both hands. 

Frank throws his head back as far as he can, holding in a moan and wondering how he didn’t realise that he needed to pee before. This is where the medical nature disappears, he thinks, desperately trying to hold it in. 

The nurse’s hands knead and push low on his stomach, at points drifting almost under the waistband of his boxers. Fleetingly, Frank thinks that Gerard must have told the stripper about his piss kink, which sends a spike of arousal through him, exhilarated by the embarrassment. 

Trying desperately to hold on, Frank focuses on the music still playing but he finds his brain racing far too much to concentrate on anything. He thinks it might be a Queen song but any attempt at trying to pay more attention dissolves when the nurse starts talking again, still pushing on his abdomen. 

“Are you sexually active?” 

“What?”

“I said,” The hands push harder, likely leaving faint marks as they go. “Are you sexually active? Have you never had a physical before, boy?” 

For a moment, Frank’s confused, like he’d forgotten this is a ‘physical’, but he quickly gathers his thoughts, answering obediently. 

“No, sorry, nurse. I’m not sexually active.” Hasn’t been for a while, actually, which explains why he’s already so embarrassingly close to completion, but close to something else too. 

Frank can feel it, the pressure building almost painfully and despite how hard he is, it won't be long until the hands on his bladder coax him not so gently into releasing, soaking the paper underneath him, leaving a dark mark on his grey boxers. _Oh._

“N-nurse.” He whimpers pathetically, so close to losing control and so ashamed of it. He whips his head back and forth, wriggling and squirming underneath the expert hands pushing harder now. 

“Look at me, boy. Look, now.” The nurse says, voice so controlled and calm. Frank’s body continues to move, shaking and writhing but his head snaps forward, locked in a blazing gaze with the sharp eyes of the nurse. 

“I-I can’t. Please.” Frank pleads, but the nurse only pushes harder now, and it hurts, burns so bad. Their gaze is cold and callous, unwavering and dark. Frank’s feet jerk in the stirrups, but the nurse removes one hand from his abdomen to slap his waist harshly in warning, and that’s when it begins. 

It starts with just a small trickle, flirting like Frank can still control it though he knows he can’t. A cry tears out of his mouth and his chest heaves in embarrassment. It’s worse because now that he’s started, he really can’t stop. 

The noise of his piss trickling onto the paper is obscene, but it leaves his mind when two things equally perfect and horrifying happen at once. The first is that the hands soften, stroking kindly instead of pushing - so devastatingly close to an apology it makes Frank want to weep. But the second, arguably worse thing, is that the nurse laughs. A high, manic giggle that brings tears to Frank’s eyes, makes his inside feel cold. 

The shame hits Frank hard, humiliated and still going, listening to it calm to a slow drizzle before eventually stopping completely. It’s uncomfortable straight away, leaving his boxers sticking to his skin and pinching in all the wrong places. But more than anything, it hurts - Frank’s read enough fetish blogs to know that peeing with a boner is _always_ uncomfortable, but he didn’t expect it to burn so much. Humiliatingly, he’s still hard, aching with it. 

The nurse is still laughing as they climb off, leaving Frank feeling ashamed and alone, even though they are still standing right next to the table, giggling. Even as they speak, they keep interrupting themself to laugh as they catch sight of Frank’s ruined boxers. 

“In my professional medical opinion, you ought to take those off now, boy. Wouldn’t want to get an infection.” God, Frank never thought he’d find this so hot; it’s dehumanising being talked to like an animal, but it’s making his blood boil just this side of pleasantly, making his thighs shake and stomach tense. 

Before Frank can reach down and pull his own underwear off, the nurse moves to do it for him, looking not at his eyes, but at his cock as they peel away the soaked material. It makes Frank want to throw up knowing that the fabric is soaked because of _him_ , because of his piss, but there’s a flare of pride there too. 

The nurse looks so pleased, hiding it under a guise of professionalism, but the quirk of their lips, skin tightening over sharp cheekbones, crinkling of the skin around wise eyes, the gentle touch from their rough hands gives them away. 

The underwear makes a horrible squelching noise when it hits the hard flooring and the nurse doesn’t miss the opportunity to look at Frank, quirking an eyebrow and smiling as his cheeks flush. 

“These final parts of the exam are typically the most daunting, but you needn’t worry boy, I’ll take good care of you.” The nurse says, pulling Frank’s socks off and buckling his feet securely into the stirrups. 

Frank resigns himself to his fate, leaning back and staring as straight towards the ceiling as he can through the awkward angle of the bed. He lays there for a moment, desperately trying to calm his racing heartbeat and very purposefully not looking at the nurse as they crawl under the bed. 

“Wee bit of a drop here.” They state, and Frank has less than a moment to decipher it before the bed starts to slip, sliding closer to the ground, slowed by the strong hands of the nurse. It clicks into the place only a foot above the ground and though it feels secure, Frank will admit he’s starting to feel a little uncertain about what’s coming next. 

It only becomes worse when the nurse moves above his head, grabbing both of his hands and tying them together, looping the rope through a ring on the frame of the bed. The ties feel a little loose, Frank thinks, and he wonders if he could break out of them. 

The answer is no; the nurse lowers the top of the bed, making the whole thing flat and effectively stretching Frank’s arms out, providing the most delicious burn in his shoulders and wrists. 

Bound and terrified, Frank just lies there, unsure if he’s completely petrified or completely thrilled about what could be coming next. The inside of his thighs are wet, drying painfully in the cold air and leaving a horrible residue behind. 

His cock releases a spurt of precome as he feels the nurse’s heel land on the bed in between his legs, dangerously close to the place he wants it most. The bed is firm, hard under the heel, and the wet paper tears away easily as the nurse points the tip of their shoe on Frank’s thighs. 

“Turn your head and cough.” The nurse laughs, raising their foot and kicking Frank in the balls, heel catching sweetly on the sensitive area. 

As Frank jerks, huffing out a wheezing breath, arching his back and rattling at his bonds, the nurse lays the shoe on Frank’s cock. The sole lays flat across the length of his cock and the heel pokes menacingly into his balls, pushing slightly between the stones. 

“G-god, please,” Frank manages, but he’s silenced by another blow, flat this time but no less biting. 

“Did I ask you to fucking speak?” The nurse grits, pushing the sharp heel onto the very tip of Frank’s cock and holding it there, fascinated with how he shivers and pants. 

Frank’s so fucking hard, flagging a little at the pain but still ridiculously turned on. Staring at the ceiling is maddening, not knowing what’s going to happen next when the shoe lifts, but it’s annoyingly hot too, having all control torn away from him. 

The nurse is still moving, rolling the point around on the tip of Frank’s cock, and, embarrassingly, made easier by how much he’s still leaking. The point of the shoe is grounded on Frank’s stomach, pushing at times. It’s sensitive already, a reminder of those capable hands pressing and coaxing. 

The nurse steps off completely, kneeling next to the bed and running their hands up and down Frank’s quivering legs. Frank turns to look as much as he can, only just catching their eyes when they raise one fist and slam it down hard on his balls. 

They don’t let up, flattening their hand and slapping his balls and cock expertly, giving the perfect bite for a lot of pleasure. Frank’s stomach ripples as he pants, tears slipping out of his eyes. 

Frank thinks he might be speaking, worries he’s breaking a rule, trying to apologise, but the words aren’t coming from him, not now. The rope on his wrists is so soft and rich, but even that hurts when he tugs too much. The slaps are still coming, merciless, and Frank’s head whips from side to side without his consent. 

It’s at least another few minutes before the nurse stands again, laying a hand on Frank’s face to steady his squirming head. He must look quite a sight; hair scruffy and tugged from his head rolling on the bed, tears slipping down his face leaving rugged tracks as they go. He’s been drooling too, brain too caught up in the _pleasurepain_ to control his mouth at all. 

But the hand is gentle, and he lets himself nuzzle into it for just a moment, enrobed in heat. 

“Last stage. Are you ready, boy?” Their eyes soften, giving him a moment to collect himself before answering. 

“Yes. Y-yes, nurse, I’m ready.” Frank murmurs, breathing heavily and resisting the urge to thrust his hips into the air in desperation. 

“Very well.” The nurse speaks, and Frank’s hands are released from the bonds, feet following a moment later. He resists the urge to stretch them, desperate to be good and well aware that this isn’t permission to move. 

The nurse smiles at him, pleased to see his obedience and impressed with his clear submissive nature. 

They climb on top of him, straddling his thighs and shifting around to get comfortable. Frank can’t resist raising his head to watch and his mouth goes dry immediately as he catches sight of their thick, delicately muscled thighs bracketing his own. 

They’ve pushed their dress up, revealing their cock which is as hard as Frank’s own, shiny with precome. It’s a mesmerising sight, and Frank loses himself in it for a moment, mouth dropping open as they stroke themself with one hand slowly. The dull thump of their shoe hitting the ground snaps him out of it, raising his eyes to catch them glaring at him as they let go of their cock to remove the other shoe. 

“‘It's not nice to stare, slut.”

“S-sorry, sorry nurse, I’m sorry.” Frank rambles, embarrassed at his lack of filter but more desperate to be good than anything. 

“You should be.” The nurse grunts, and Frank watches as one of their hands disappears behind them. They use their other hand to jerk Frank off, and it’s the first time he’s been touched directly but mortifyingly, he’s so close, desperately clinging to the bed as he tries to hold off. 

When their hand emerges, they’re holding a butt plug, glinting in the light in a way that dry metal just doesn’t do. Frank has to look away then, so close to coming it’s ridiculous, just feeling for a moment. 

It doesn’t work; the nurse moves while Frank’s not looking, shuffling so that his cock sits directly on their hole. Frank can _feel_ how wet it is, remnants of the lube they would have used to prep themself for the large plug making the glide easier as they teasingly grind against his cock. 

“Been waiting for this all day, boy. You gonna be good for me? Will you fuck me deep like I’ve been waiting for?” The nurse speaks in a tone just a shade away from desperation, one hand holding Frank’s cock in place and the other thumbing at their own nipple. 

“Yes, fuck-” The nurse abruptly sits in one smooth movement, Frank’s thighs hitting their ass loudly, competing with their twin noises of pleasure. 

Frank raises his hips a little, lifting one hand to hold their waist through the thin dress. As they pant, their chest heaving, their breasts shake and Frank wants to suck them, leave teeth marks and bruises behind. 

“G-god, good boy, that’s it.” 

The nurse is bouncing, now, tits slapping against the rough fabric of their dress, panting out heavy breaths and choking on their moans. The stethoscope is still pressed between them from where they must have placed it back there. They catch Frank staring and pull it off their neck, the sweat on it glinting in a way that should be gross, but really, really isn’t. 

For a second, they just hold it, stretched taut between their hands, grinding down and savouring the feeling.

Abruptly, Frank realises how loud he’s been moaning, great heaving sounds ripping out of his chest as he sobs in pleasure and he’s almost embarrassed, but the nurse is just as loud, trying to take more of him desperately though the angle doesn’t really allow it. 

The shiny red plastic of the stethoscope chord flits past Frank’s eyes as the nurse wraps it around his throat, less like a leash and more like a collar now. The plastic is sticky with sweat as it pulls on Frank’s throat, pinching the skin tightly. 

It tightens heavily, pulling his body with it as the nurse uses it to yank his body into a sitting position, Frank’s hands flying to their waist to steady himself. 

“Deeper, boy.” The nurse pants, tightening the chord as incentive. 

Blindly, Frank obeys, spurred on by the dizziness and the feeling of the rough-soft lace on their stockings scratching on his bare legs. It takes so much of Frank’s energy to coordinate his hips with his brain but he manages, thrusting up into the tight heat, listening to the sound of his balls slapping against their ass. 

“Yes,” The nurse hisses, drawing it out into an obscene moan. “Yeah, that’s it, good boy, fuck.” It’s obvious that Frank is hitting their prostate on almost every thrust, not only that he can feel the involuntary tightening but also that their body spasms, head falling back and their thighs tightening in overwhelming pleasure every time. 

Working together, they create the perfect rhythm to have both of them encased in immense pleasure, skin slipping through the layers of sweat. It’s a perfect system, but a delicate one, which Frank finds out the first time his hand slips and he mistimes his thrust. 

It causes the nurse to growl, tightening the cord again and taking advantage of Frank’s open mouth to spit into it - though they miss and mostly just hit his cheek. 

“Deeper, fuck me deeper.” They whimper, somehow still sounding composed and intimidating even through their whining voice and gasping breaths. 

Maybe it’s his submissive nature, or maybe it’s his desperation to come, but Frank makes a quick decision as the cord continues to tighten. 

He lurches forward and grabs the nurse’s hips, thrusting into them at the same time as he yanks then down, slamming them onto his cock. It’s so deep, their bodies clashing and grinding in harsh collisions, skin reddening from the force. 

Frank doesn’t know how he’s still holding on, so desperate to come that his balls ache (though maybe that’s not why they hurt). He’s learnt that begging is usually the right move, so he opens his mouth and let’s his brain spill out. 

“Please, nurse. Fuck, please let me come,” Frank pants. “I’ve been so good for you, please let me come inside you.” 

“No.” The nurse gasps. “Not before I do.” 

Groaning, Frank closes his eyes and fucks up even harder, tears spilling out even through the scrunched up lids. His hands have tightened so much on their hips he thinks there will be fingerprint bruises left, but thinking about that almost makes him lose it, so he tries to rid the thought from his brain. 

“Fuck, oh shit, gonna come, gonna-.” The nurse wails, ripping their hands away from Frank’s neck to jerk themself off as they finish. 

They come hard, white spurts whipping across Frank’s bare chest and reaching even to his chin though, much to his dismay, not quite reaching his mouth. Frank stops thrusting for a moment, just slamming into them sharply and grinding against their prostate as they come. 

The nurses moans are husky, deep sighs rumbling through the air as they come down from their pleasure. Even as they’re still dripping, milking what’s left from their cock, they start moving their hips, grinding more than riding Frank. 

“Come on baby, good boy, come for me now.” And it’s all Frank needs, white heat fizzing through his whole body as his eyes scrunch closed once again. His whole body tenses, raising off the bed for a second as he unconsciously tries to bury himself as deep into the nurse as he can, spilling his release inside them. 

Their fingers stroke down his chest, hips moving very slightly as they come back to reality together. It’s nice, Frank thinks, to be this close to someone. 

Eventually the slim bed becomes too small, discomfort spreading through the pair as they peel themselves apart. They’re both covered in a disgusting mess of sweat, piss and come and the bed is too. 

The nurse laces their finger together, grounding themself as they lift up and off of Frank’s soft cock, both making weak noises of discomfort as a gush of Frank’s come spills out and all over them. As they step onto the floor on wobbly legs, Frank finds the energy to sit up just as the nurse reaches down to place a tender kiss on his forehead. 

“Where’s your bathroom, love?” They whisper, still holding his hand while the other cards through his sweaty hair. 

Frank manages a groan and a noncommittal wave of his hand in the vague direction of the bathroom, but the nurse just laughs and squeezes his hand before leaving the room. Fleetingly Frank thinks that he really likes them, and it sucks that they’ll probably never meet again. Oh, well. 

It takes a second for the world to come back into focus still but when it does Frank scans the room, reaching over to collect his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. 

The light from his phone blinds him for a moment, still recovering from the best sex of his fucking life. When his eyes adjust to the light, he laughs at the new message notification, presumably from Gerard and probably asking how the sex was. 

He fumbles to put his passcode in, listening to the sounds of the water running in the bathroom down the hall, the nurse whistling as they move around. It’s a nice sound. 

There are a couple of messages; predictably, one teasing; 

_‘So did you cry or piss yourself? Or both, maybe?’_

But it’s not that one that catches his eye. It’s the second message, more serious and _much_ more interesting. 

_‘Their name is Grant, they’re single and think you’re really hot. Happy birthday.”_

Frank’s face twists into an impulsive smile, heart racing in a way it wouldn’t, couldn’t during sex. It makes his skin flush and his head pound a little, hope blossoming low in his stomach.

The nurse - Grant - walks back into the room, smiling hesitantly at Frank from the doorway. 

_Yeah,_ Frank thinks, _Happy Birthday to me._


End file.
